Saints
by October Sky
Summary: What could she say to him? What could she say to make him see that she really wasn't sorry? That still thought about him? That she took every stolen moment with him with a gratefulness she never knew she possessed? Until now.


Saints

**Summary:** What could she say to him? What could she say to make him see that she really wasn't sorry? That still thought about him? That she took every stolen moment with him with a gratefulness she never knew she possessed? Until now.

**Spoilers: **What Eko's been working on(building) this season. Season two Jate(ask about this one).

**Paring: **Jate

**Status: **Complete/one-shot

**Disclaimer:** Lost belongs to J.J. Abrams and co. at ABC

The morning's bright sun fit in perfectly with the chipper mood of the castaways as they gathered around, eager to see the small chapel Charlie and Mr. Eko had been working on for weeks. She couldn't know for sure, but to Kate it almost seemed like people were more excited about the church than the raft. Maybe they just always needed something new. Or maybe, this gave the plane crash survivors a sense of normality. After all, what could go wrong with a church?

People rushed past her as Kate stood on the beach, looking lost amongst the crowd. A few smiled as they bumped into her where Kate stood on the tallest sand dune, scanning the beach. Her hair blew with the wind behind her, and the skirt she found flapped with it, wrapping around her ankles. Most decided to dress up, and with the mutual clean up they looked more like an Easter Sunday crowd than a group of castaways. But Kate soon regretted the formal wear, as her flip-flops were pinching at her toes.

At last she spotted him, sitting alone as always, reading while lounged in a chair while the others gathered elsewhere. What more could she have expected of Sawyer on an occasion like this? Fighting the wind she approached him, and as if Sawyer had some kind of beacon to detect her presence, he looked up and grinned. On the way she decided to lose the shoes and carry them instead.

"Well, well, well," Kate couldn't help but to smile at his sly greeted, "did Ana die or are you and Jacko getting married?"

"That's horrible, Sawyer!" Kate exclaimed, though still smiling at his effort.

"Yeah, well she didn't shut you in a pit for the days," Sawyer snapped.

Kate rolled her eyes.

"Are you coming?" She asked, noticing the crowd was beginning to fade as they began to reach their destination.

Even from here whispers of excitement could be heard. It really was like someone was getting married. She could only imagine the look on everyone's face if she and Jack really were to become engaged. Hell, Hurley and Charlie probably already had bets made. But with recent happenings and misunderstandings, Kate was doubting that could ever happen. She could dream all she wanted, but she wasn't the only one who saw Jack's fallen face after the Others shoved her out, or the way he ignored her when she tried to apologize. But who could blame him? She did run after the kiss, after all. And he didn't even regret it. A smile crept from her lips at the thought, and Kate still wondered what would've happened that night had Michael not been thrown into the scene. Literally, thrown.

Sawyer snorted, interrupting her thoughts.

"Hell Freckles," he said, almost in disbelief at the question, "something tells me God ain't too worried about us right now-" he half--grinned, showing off his infamous dimples, "and besides, I've never been religious."

_Should've figured it, _Kate thought bitterly. Somehow in her mind, though, she thought that she could convince Sawyer to come. Even with Michael's return Sawyer still was no more social than before, purposefully distancing himself for any type of event.

"But if you're giving out tickets to the fashion so afterwards," Sawyer went on slyly, "I'd love to join 'ya."

His grinned widened, and Kate scrawled at him, sickened.

"Yeah?" She tried to think of a comeback, but Kate couldn't bring herself to it. "Have fun with your book."

She turned, letting her skirt whip around after her as she walked away.

"You too!" Sawyer called after her. "Because we both know how much the good lord cares about us!"

Kate almost stumbled at the comment. Because she knew Sawyer didn't mean everyone. He really did mean 'us'. The criminals. She knew going to one service wouldn't redeem herself. It wouldn't bring Tom back, it wouldn't fix things with Jack. But it did make her feel a little better.

And there he was. As Kate rounded the bushes to where the chapel sat on a small hill, she spotted a few rows of logs set out like pews. On one of the rows towards the back, sitting alone, was Jack. He was staring at the ground, as if deep in thought, with his hands dropped below him. Cleaned up as well, Jack looked nice in some newer looking jeans and a long sleeve shirt. Kate vaguely remembered Jack wearing what looked like funeral clothes the day of the crash, and she wondered if he saved clothes. Maybe they were meant for his father's funeral. She smiled sympathetically, though he couldn't see her, and walked towards him.

"This seat taken?" Kate asked, baring her smile with the wind as she wrapped her arms around her waste.

Startled, Jack looked up, and for a moment Jack stared at her. Kate did her best not to blush, and she was seriously regretting dressing up. The last thing she need was both Jack and Sawyer gawking over her at the same time on the same planet.

"No," Jack finally remembered to say, scooting to the side to let Kate sit down.

The chapel wasn't big, and most of the walls covered the front, but it was still nice. A bamboo cross hung in front of them, shadow Eko and Charlie as they prepared to introduce their building. Locke sat up front, looking content but yet distraut with his leg still in a makeshift cast, and Claire sat with Aaron in her lap beside him. Every now and then Kate caught Charlie glancing towards Claire, and she couldn't help but to feel bad for him. She only knew too well what misinterpretations of acts felt like. Then again, Charlie did kidnap Aaron, and it was a little hard to try and see his reasoning.

"Nice place," Kate complimented.

"Yeah," Jack agreed as Rose and Bernard settled down behind him.

Awkward tension was already build between them, and Kate worked quickly to work up an excuse for conversation. Glances were already being thrown their way, and Kate began to feel a sense of stage fright. What could she say to him? What could she say to make him see that she really wasn't sorry? That still thought about him? That she took every stolen moment with him with a gratefulness she never knew she possessed? Until now. Now was such a complicated time that Kate would regret seeing Jack go just because then she'd have to think, analyzing everything he said in that moment like an obsessive fan-girl. Now Kate had too much time to think and nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. It was all now, like fate was throwing this in her face at once, knowing her past tendencies.

But yet, now not all of Kate wanted to run.

"I wouldn't of taken you as a religious man," Kate admited, breaking herself away from her thoughts.

"I'm not," Jack confessed, "I was actually asked to come."

"Guess I'm sitting in the VIP row, huh?" Kate joked lightly.

Jack smiled sheepishly.

"Nothing special about me," Jack retorted. He looked up at the bamboo cross, gazing at it longly, though with a hint of envy. "I'm no saint."

He let out a snort at his commit, though Kate couldn't see anything the slightest bit humourus about it. In fact, one could pity Jack, the way he treated himself. He never gave himself credit, Kate observed, even though he never seemed to doubt that he could do something. A determination beyond anything she'd ever seen before was planted inside Jack, and while it turned some away, Kate found it flattering. Especially when that determination meant care and concern for her. Even if he did sometimes go over the top. If only there were some way to think him, some way to apologize that wouldn't push him away in fear..like she herself ran. She grimaced in regret at the thought, even though she knew what a casual thing it was. Sometimes those walls, graffiti covered with manipulated messages of a so-called safety and shelter, seemed too tempted, when in real life, her mending wall awaited. And Jack stood behind it. He'd wait for her, she knew, if only she would push herself forward. Even if it was little by little. She knew she had to, and what better time than now, at a church? Kate was aware she was taking the situation to a selfish advantage, but she was desperate, too desperate. Initially, that was exactly what scared her.

"Jack," she began quietly, beginning to wish again that they were alone, where no one could see what faults they secretly held in their relationship; or see barriers begin to come down. "About the other night-"

"Kate-"

"Did you mean it?"

Kate had to know. Quickly she asked the question, determined to get an answer before Jack could draw the line. Jack stared at her for a moment before finally letting out a laugh.

"Kate," he said in forced disbelief, "we're in a church."

He looked away, pretending to distract himself with the continuous arrival of survivors as Kate stared at him in incredulous fury.

"You'll always have an excuse, won't you?" Kate whispered, her tone signaling clear hurt and betrayal.

Jack's face contorted into a more stable expression, ready in case any emergency walls needed to barricade what really lay inside. When she thought about it, Jack was just as good at running as she was; a true pro at hiding themselves for the sake of others.

"Kate, I-"

"I'm trying to apologize to you!" Kate exclaimed in a gasp, now more angry than sympathetic towards him. Why wouldn't he just give her a chance?

But his pause afterwards did give her a chance. He looked at her, and for a split second a brand new coat of hope flashed across his face; and in that moment, Kate knew that he wanted what she did. A future. A chance. Something neither one of them had ever been offered before. Had never been _given_ before.

"Maybe we could talk later," Jack whispered at last.

And all at once the hope inside her faded. She knew only too well that 'later' was just a chance for escape, an opportunity to run. To run and never come back. Her stomach crumpled in a pit of desperate sorrow, beating against her in rhythm with the heart that just wanted to be accepted. All she needed was this forgiveness- forgiveness from Jack.

"You two could save your bickering for another time," Rose suggested kindly, leaning forward to them. She patted Jack's shoulder. "You look nice, dear."

Jack blushed shyly as Bernard leaned forward to Kate.

"You do too," he said with a wink and a smile as he set back down.

A grin of embarrassment escaped Kate, and an actual moment of relief passes. But Kate saw that Jack was getting too comfortable, and she knew she didn't have that much time left.

"We need to talk,_ now_," Kate leaned over and whispered to Jack.

He stared at her.

"You want to talk?" He blurted out loudly after a pause. "Fine, let's talk."

Pulling her up by the wrist, Kate found herself facing humiliated attention as she was forced away from the church, practically being dragged. Very rarely did Kate ever see Jack angry, and certainly never this angry. She felt like a child being pulled out of a service by a parent; humiliated. Having no choice but to follow him, Kate let Jack drag her out to a more secluded part of the beach where they were hidden from the crowd by an overgrown bush. Here the waves crashed rapidly near by, and the trees swung above them with the breeze. Here the earth moved, instead of standing still like a painting on a canvas, stroked and put together through years of hard work. Jack thrust her arm away, more harshly than meant.

"Let's talk."

His face was severely serious. If she ran away now, she'd lose all chance of hope with Jack. It was now or never.

"I'm sorry," Kate said at last, voice whimpering and looking like a dog who had just been kicked. "I'm _sorry_."

Her eyes clouded in tears, but Kate found herself unable to look away from Jack. So she stood there, on the verge of crying as the man she wanted, needed, yet constantly pushed away, stood over her, watching. She felt like some sick scientific experiment, poked and prodded as variables were continuously taken away, leaving her to fend, cowering in a corner of helplessness.

"Just give me another chance," Kate begged, desperate as she continued. All she wanted was his forgiveness. _Please.._"I promise I won't screw up."

This time, Jack's expression softened. He watched Kate with a deepening credence, a part of him escaping unpredictably. Kate looked up at him like she was truly looking up at her hero, looking at him and needing that knowledge that she was wasn't fooling herself. He wanted this as much as she did, and he was willing to do the work. She was sure of it. She could hope..

"I promise," she whispered, her voice trembling.

She'd never fallen apart in front of someone like she had before Jack. Even with Tom she was able to keep her act together, worried about worrying him. He had her trust, but she was young then. So young, at first, that she wasn't even aware that she didn't have a healthy family relationship. Then she grew up, and when she became conscious of the other lives out there, Tom helped her have a secret one. It was like their own secret fairy-tale, hidden inside a wardrobe or behind a special mirror. She could feel special, wanted, appreciated. Like a princess. Unfortuently, that also meant always trying to be perfect, an act struggled to keep together as the years went on. Tom would understand, however, and he was a good shoulder to cry on.

But even fairy-tales have to end sometimes, and another would pick right up. She didn't like to think of Jack as a replacement Prince Charming, and that was part of her fear of moving on. Tom and herself had been the best of friends for years, even stealing a kiss or two as they grew older, but in the end, it was Tom with a wife. Tom with kids. Tom who left her. Tom who was dead with a bullet in her head. Did she fail him? Should she have gotten her revenge that night, killing her father? How did Tom feel about that? Was he angry, or was he yearning to get in touch with her, knowing Kate was out of sorts and needing someone? Did he know that she was shaken by what she did, what she had been able to do? Did he know that she was terrified of getting caught? Or was he possibly worried about what happen to her mother?

Jack seemed like a different story. Jack..he could really commit himself to things, that determination of his. With Jack, life felt like a fairy-tale, but there was a sense of reality too. She could imagine a future with him, dream it, but now it felt more than just a fantasy. Now, it was real.

"Kate," Jack choked out at last in that voice of awe he always possessed, like there was something the world should obviously know. "You didn't screw up."

Any moment now Kate was sure a knife would come down and chop the connection between them, his eyes on hers. Both desperate, both hopeful. She was only slightly conscious of the fact that she was holding her breath, not wanting to miss another beat of his reply. He raised a hand up and Kate watched, her breath officially caught in her throat as his hand rested on her shoulder.

"It's hard, I know," Jack reassured her calmly. Kate wondered briefly if this was something Jack thought from the start, or something he was just realizing. "It's hard for me too."

That part clearly wasn't supposed to come out. Jack stopped, caught in the act of confession. Kate could only watch him, anxious for him to finish.

"It's okay," he whispered in conclusion, his hand firm in a calming hold on her shoulder, "it's okay."

Amazed at his presence, Kate really admired Jack for being able to pull himself up off of the brief confession, and she was grateful for his words. More grateful than he could ever know. The next thing Kate knew she was easing into his hold on her, bringing her arm up to him. Her hand struggled until it found his face, and she clutched it for dear life as she brought herself forward to him, bracing his lips with hers. Jack was quick to wrap his other arm around her, as if he knew that was just what she needed. In rhythm their lips met, brushing against the silent beat of the waves, tempting the brewing passion between them as the kiss deepened. She listen closely so that she could hear each breath Jack stole, just to keep herself in tune to reality.

After ages of the much needed relief, the kiss broke, and they gasped for breath, resting against each other in the reassuring comfort one needed after denial; denial that something was so perfect it was too good to be true. A laugh escaped Kate, immediately catching Jack's worried attention.

"Something wrong?" Jack asked, attempting and failing at trying to hide his fears.

Kate shook her head.

"No," she replied, in all honesty, "everything's perfect."

It was then she realized Jack's hands were in hers, holding her to keep their steady balance. She smiled at the sight of Jack's fingers laced into hers, soothing the tension and nerves there.

"Think the hatch is empty?" Jack asked over the lingering silence.

Kate looked at him in surprised.

"Brave, aren't you?" She teased with a nervous chuckle.

What if they moved to fast? What if she got nervous again and ran? Third times the charm, right? But they were on an island, and the only charm was a person's feelings, and the last thing that Kate wanted to do was to treat Jack like some wind-up toy. She was already worried she had been doing that. What she wanted was a true second chance, not a potential reason to further her behaviors.

Not that she wouldn't mind moving forward in a relationship with Jack.

"The button," Jack recovered quickly, "is someone there to push it?"

While most of Kate felt relieved, part of Kate actually felt disappointed; let down. Aware Jack was watching her, Kate picked herself up, determined not to be hurt.

"Sayid is," Kate confirmed with a nod.

A look of concerned crossed Jack's face, and once again he was the leader, looking out for everyone. She knew that'd be a drawback, but was it really? It just felt so _good_ to be in the hands of someone like Jack, and that was definitely _not_ a drawback.

"Really?" Jack said, covering his concern with curiosity. "I figured he'd be up front with Locke."

Kate looked up at him.

"We all have different beliefs, Jack," Kate reminded him quietly.

She hoped this wouldn't lead to a personal belief intervention, as that had always a touchy place with her, and from what it looked like, Jack as well. Kate waited for Jack to say something, and she took the liberty to change the subject when he didn't.

"We need to talk," she went on, just as softly. Jack let her continue on without interruption. "Privately."

Jack nodded.

"Think the beach is empty?" He asked, stretching his mind for a place to go.

She liked the way Jack thought. All she wanted to do at the moment was stay with him where they could be alone together.

"Sawyer's there," Kate realized suddenly.

Of course.

"There's always the jungle," Jack suggested.

Kate tensed up a little, though some of their best moments had occurred in the jungle. Sometimes at night she'd still smile, thinking of being trapped in the net with Jack. Truthfully, she wouldn't of minded being stuck out there for a few more hours. Or at least she would've liked to been with him a little longer. The jungle gave them the opportunity to talk, at least long enough for her to discover Jack hadn't been sorry about the kiss. For days afterward she gleed over that thought, and she immediately started planning their next conversation, hoping she'd get another chance.

However, the jungle also reminded Kate of the kiss, and though it wasn't a bad memory, she was forced to remember the way she ran, fleeing, leaving him confused and hurt for days. Kate shuddered at the thought.

"How about just staying here?" Kate offered, looking up at Jack after coming out of thought.

As if on cue, Charlie's guitar sang vibes of cords that rang through the air until reaching where they stood, adding a musical touch to their conversation. Jack chuckled.

"Feeling guilty yet?" He asked, feeling bad himself about walking out on the service, especially after being specifically invited. "Surely this counts as a sin."

"Skipping out on church to make out with the doctor?" Kate laughed. "It's got to be written into there somewhere."

Jack chuckled along with her. One of the things she liked most about the jungle trek was the lightness of it, up until the end. She really was flattered that Jack asked her to come, and after walking a few miles, Kate was certain that Jack really wanted her company, as she did his. Maybe he, too, was just wanting a chance to talk. Alone.

"Maybe it should wait until later," Jack said, remembering Rose's comment.

Kate looked down, feeling slightly betrayed.

"I promise," Jack said, bringing her hands, still embraced within his. He kissed them, an act she wouldn't of ever expected from Jack. Kate looked down at her knuckles, and she couldn't help to let out an inner cry of joy, feeling like a little girl- _I'm never washing these hands again!_

"Okay," Kate whispered.

Jack brought her hands down, and Kate refused to let go until the last possible moment. Then, both baring reluctance, they headed about towards the church, where- despite Charlie's talented guitar playing- heads turned at their late entrance.

"Sorry," Jack said to the curious faces.

In Charlie's honor he aired the sign of a cross before sitting down, Kate mocking his actions. Up front, Charlie continued singing in playing, sounding very in tune to the calming atmosphere of the day. The church's opening had been at a perfect timing: a time of need and hope. Kate settled into her seat, having trouble holding back from taking Jack's hand again, as she didn't want to steal Charlie's limelight. She was actually regretting coming back, her mind too jumbled to concentrate on anything but Jack.

Letting Charlie's voice ease her excitement, Kate thought back to opening up the idea of conversation to Jack, only a half an hour ago. He had said there was nothing special about him, that he was no saint, but Kate thought that was very ironic to her personal opinions; because at the moment, she was thinking just that.


End file.
